Before it hits 2012 - commentfic roundup!
So I was starting to put together stats for my 2011 Year in Fic and I realised I've got a bunch of ficlets, not!fics and commentfics I've not properly posted, so since today is the last day of 2011, I guess I need to post them now!
always-a-girl!Gerard/Lyn-Z/Frank - continuation of the Punk-Ass-Threesome High School AU - 8 hours after Fuck Standards for shiningartifact, 1700 words ( original post)
There's a boy in Gee's basement. Well, okay, that sounds a lot creepier than it is. He's not like, tied up and being tortured or anything. Gee's just doing what she would be doing any other Friday night - watching videos with Lindsey, eating popcorn with extra butter - but she's having trouble settling into it and relaxing because Frank is here too.
Frank, is sitting on Gee's bed, in Gee's basement and Gee is totally not used to having boys down here. Well, except for Mikey, but he doesn't count. Oh, and except for that time that Mikey brought that guy Pete from the interstate soccer team down here, but Gee's not supposed to know about that, and she doesn't want to know about that, so yeah.
Anyway, there is a boy on Gee's bed. And it's Lindsey's fault he's even here because she's the one who invited him. Well, sort of. After the whole making out at lunch thing (which ended way too quickly when one of the teachers decided they were being 'indecent', what-the-fuck-ever) Lindsey teased Gee mercilessly about her boycrush and kept talking about how cute Frank looks when he blushes, for the rest of the day. Then when they were leaving school, Frank was right there at the school gates, and they could have just walked past him and gone on with their lives, but no, Lindsey turned around and glared at him, until he said "What?" and she shrugged and said, "You coming?" and just like that he was invited to movie night at Gee's.
And now Gee is having a really hard time concentrating on this supposedly-terrifying French horror film, because trying to read subtitles when she can feel the warmth of Frank's shoulder next to hers, when she can smell that musky scent of the deodorant he came back from the bathroom stinking of, when she can remember what his lips felt like when he kissed her... well, you get the idea.
Apparently she's not the only one having trouble concentrating, because Lindsey keeps sighing and wiggling around on the bed beside her like she's bored too. As much as Gee isn't getting into the movie, she feels kind of bad for the filmmakers that they're being such a terrible audience, so she turns to say something to Lindsey about suspension of disbelief, but she doesn't get two words out before Lindsey's tongue is in her mouth.
Gee makes a small noise of surprise which Lindsey swallows and then they're kissing and Gee's having a hard time remembering why this is a bad idea. Lindsey is a seriously good kisser, okay? And she's really getting into it, pressing Gee backwards until hey - is that Frank's shoulder digging into her back? Right, yes it is, because there is a boy on Gee's bed, how the hell did she forget that?
She breaks the kiss, panting, tasting Lindsey's lipstick on her mouth. Her face feels really hot and even though she doesn't really WANT to remind herself that she's making out in front Frank for the second time that day, she can't help but look at him. And he is staring back at both of them, biting hard on his wet lips and looking so turned on, and hot, and gorgeous.
Gee's breath catches and she's stares right back, anything she might have wanted to say dying on her lips. Lindsey laughs and shoves Gee forwards and suddenly Frank's right in front of her, sharing breath, licking his lips and for a moment it's awkward and Frank looks really unsure, but then he leans and kisses her so sweetly she can't even fathom not kissing back. Gee slides her tongue into Frank's mouth, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders.
Lindsey leans in behind Gee, chuckling softly into her neck as she presses her breasts into Gee's back, crowding Gee closer to Frank until he's sliding down on the bed. Gee climbs on top of him, chasing his mouth, then Lindsey's giggling and stretching out over both of them. Gee's sandwiched between them, Lindsey all warm and soft at her back, Frank hard and solid against her front and fuck, she didn't expect this, didn't plan for it, but she can't stop now, it's too fucking good.
Frank breaks for air, laughing and panting, "Fuck, this is not real, how is this real?" Lindsey cracks up laughing at that and so does Gee, pressing her face into Frank's chest and stifling her giggles into his chest. When she looks up, Frank's watching her, looking kind of awed and shell shocked, and she tilts her head to kiss him again and this time it's fucking serious. They end up grinding on each other, Lindsey all over Gee, hands everywhere, mouth hot on her neck, while Gee rocks down against Frank, their bodies sliding together until their legs are scissored and fuck, fuck she knows she's writhing on his leg like a slut and she doesn't even care. It just feels so good.
He's loving it too, she can feel it, the press of his hard-on against her thigh should be weird and scary but it's not, it's just fucking hot. It makes her feel so sexy and powerful that she can do this to him and she feels safe because Lindsey is right there with her, guiding her, helping her, hands dancing between both of them, painted fingernails scraping at skin.
Frank starts to buck under her, moaning, his movements getting more fierce and fuck, Gee's getting close too - it's not just making out anymore. Frank freezes, grabbing Gee's hips, breaking the kiss and panting. "Fuck, stop, you have to- you have to stop, or I'm gonna-" he's shaking, looking panicked and out of control, sweaty and gorgeous and so on edge. Fuck, Gee loves it. This thrill of pride rolls through her - she did that to him and oh my god, she doesn't want to stop. She wants to take him apart.
Lindsey's the one who decides it though, leaning in close to Gee's ear, whisper hotly, "Don't stop," as she rolls her hips against Gee's, getting Gee moving again. She rocks down against Frank, rubbing her thigh between his, against his cock through his pants. He whimpers, thrusting back against her, any control lost as his face creases up like he's in pain. He shakes and bucks under her, making these incredible breathy noises that set her on fire. He grips her arms, tight, shuddering and groaning as his hips leap up one more time and oh fuck she can feel the damp heat spread through his jeans as he trembles and comes, right under her. It should be gross, but it's not, it's just so fucking hot.
His head drops back against the bed. He's panting, shuddering and Gee stares at him, breathless and awed. Lindsey makes the next move. She shoves her hand down the front of Gee's jeans and Gee loses any scrap of thought she had left. She moans, her head dropping forwards as she bucks down against Lindsey's hand - Lindsey's fingers don't even make it into Gee's underwear but it doesn't matter, she jerks Gee off through the soaked cotton, her mouth hot and warm on Gee's shoulder, biting lightly at the skin. She knows exactly how to touch Gee and fuck, it's good, hot, perfect. Gee comes too fast, startling herself with her own groan, her eyes flying open to find Frank looking up at her, his eyes wide, his mouth open and her pussy floods and clenches under Lindsey's fingers as she comes her fucking brains out.
God it's too much. She wants to hide her face, run away, but she can't. Lindsey's all over her, grabbing her arms with wet fingers and pulling her close, kissing her breathless. She grabs Gee's hand and shoves it under her skirt, into her panties and holy fuck, she's so wet. So hot. Gee can't not do this. She knows Frank's watching and that just makes it hotter as she brings Lindsey off, rubbing hard and fast at her clit until she's writhing and moaning, holding Gee's wrist tight like she's worried she'll stop.
Gee doesn't fucking stop, she keeps going until Lindsey loses it, throwing her head around, groaning, shaking, her cunt trembling and pulsing under Gee's fingers. Fuck, she loves this, loves seeing Linds come apart like this, she's so fucking beautiful, all wild and unconstrained. Gee doesn't stop the onslaught until Lindsey collapses onto the bed, no doubt still feeling aftershocks. Gee finally nerves herself to look at Frank who is just gaping at both of them, looking awestruck and fucked out and totally blown away.
Gee has to stifle a laugh into the back of her hand, getting a nose full of Lindsey's scent on her fingers and she starts to lick them clean without even thinking about it, at least not until Frank lets out this choked noise and she sees the way he's watching her do it.
"What?" she asks, suddenly defensive, one fingertip still on her lips. She's not the one who just came in her pants. Well okay, technically she is, but that's not the point.
Frank just shakes his head though, a giant, manic smile stretching his mouth, looking dazed. "Seriously, you two," he glances between Gee and Lindsey like they're going to disappear or burst into flames any second, "How the fuck is this my life?"
He looks so blown away Gee can't even help it. She cracks a smile, sharing it with Lindsey, who smiles back her, all lazy and fucked-out in that way that means she'll be pulling her bra off any second now.
Gee grabs Frank's wrist and yanks his arm closer, pinching the soft flesh of his upper arm - hard.
"Ow! The fuck?" Frank pulls his arm back, rubbing hard at the sore spot, pouty and adorable.
"Guess you're not dreaming then, huh?" Gee says with a grin.
Frank flips her off with a smile.
Pete/Mikey in the Killjoys!verse, 6 months after Pete/Mikey on a motorcycle for turps33, 1100 words ( original post)
Mikey's bike slides, kicking up a dustcloud as they skid to a halt outside another nameless abandoned gas station.
Mikey's ears as still ringing when he and Pete burst through the doors, boots smacking hard on dusty concrete as they sweep the place. Mikey clutches his gun, still warm from the shootout, ducking gracefully between the battered shelves, eyes scanning for any movement, any sign this place is spoken for.
He lets out a breath. It's deserted. "We're clear."
Pete's at the window, scanning the horizon, jitter in his fingers. He jumps at Mikey's light touch to his shoulder, coiled tight, ready to spring.
"It's okay, you got them all. There's no more coming." Mikey can taste sand, clinging to his lips from riding without a helmet. He can still feel the hot brand of Pete's fingers at his waist, holding tight as they sped across the ground, Pete's blasts dull in his ears under the rush of wind.
Pete's still out there, still fighting. Mikey holsters his gun and steps up behind him. He wraps an arm around Pete's waist, tucks his head into Pete's neck to nuzzle him softly. "It's okay." He whispers.
He can feel the too-fast pulse of Pete's heartbeat under his lips. He shifts his hand higher on Pete's chest, feels it there too. "I'm here." Mikey says, spreading his fingers wide over Pete's heart. Pete's chest shifts under Mikey's hand as he lets out a long breath.
The near-silent moment is erased when Pete turns in Mikey's arms, dusty fingers coming up to frame his cheekbones and pull him in for a hard kiss. Rusty shelves press hard into Mikey's shoulder blades as Pete pushes him back, pressing his tongue into his mouth, tasting him. He's breathing hard through his nose, and it brushes Mikey's cheek. Mikey can taste the road on him, the sharp tang of fear and the rush of blood that comes with gunfire. He falls into the kiss, letting Pete suck him into the adrenaline current, giving it all back, letting the need run through them like a feedback loop.
Mikey breaks the kiss, panting, and turns them, shoving Pete back against the windows. He fits his hands tight to Pete's wrists and holds them out, pressing the back of Pete's hands to the dusty glass. He's so jumped up he's sure he can feel the pulse of blood under his fingers as he leans in, his panting breaths bouncing back of Pete's lips before he kisses him again.
There's nothing soft about it. Pete's body is hard against his, their teeth clash as they wrestle to get closer, Pete trying to tug his hands free, already impatient to touch. Mikey releases Pete's wrists and immediately drops to his knees, hard on the dusty concrete, fighting with Pete's belt and zip. Pete's hands are already in Mikey's hair when he gets them open, then he's tasting sweat and smelling leather, the music of Pete's choked noises in his ears as he sucks him down as far and as fast as he can.
There's no time to ease into it, they're overdue already and the guys will be flipping when they hear of the firefight. Mikey shifts straight into overdrive, sliding one hand under Pete's balls, stroking a finger between his cheeks, flicking his tongue.
Pete's fingers tighten, twisting in his hair. It stings, but it's good, he can feel it - he's alive. He bounces his head, working his mouth as fast as he can, breathing hard through his nose. He's hitting every short cut, every trick to make Pete moan. It works. Pete grips Mikey's head, fucking his face, and Mikey lets him. He needs this, wants it. Pete's dick tightens under his tongue, feeling huge in his mouth, then he gasps, shaking, convulsing and coming, repeating Mikey's name like a breathy mantra. Mikey pulls off enough to swallow, hot and bitter on his tongue - good, real, human.
He reaches for his belt as he climbs unsteadily to his feet. Pete grins, his teeth pressing against Mikey's cheek as he leans in, sweaty, blissed and fucked out. Mikey gets his dick out his pants about the same time Pete starts licking Mikey's neck, biting in that good way, giving him goosebumps. Mikey's sweat lends slide to his hand as he jerks himself off, breathing in Pete, and sweat, and dust, as his fingers find a rhythm.
Pete reaches for him clumsily, but he's too fucked out and Mikey's too gone. He slaps Pete's hands away, needing it to be fast, needing it now. Pete doesn't fight him, just bites behind Mikey's ear and shoves his hands up under the zebra striped shirt to pinch Mikey's nipples until he's groaning, choking.
"Fuck, Pete. Motherfucker." Mikey spills the words out, already on knife edge. He quickens his hand to a blur and then fuck, oh fuck he's bucking into his fist, coming hard. Pete falls to his knees too late to do anything but catch Mikey's release on his chin and cheek.
Mikey stands there, his body arched forward, dripping dick in his fist, his breath harsh and loud in the quiet gas station. Every pore, every cell is zinging. He looks down at Pete - flushed, sweaty and windblown - his jacket marked with grease and someone else's blood, his face smeared with Mikey's come. Their eyes lock and they breathe through it together, both of them in exactly the same place.
Mikey reaches down, his fingers still trembling with spent adrenaline, and wipes his come off Pete's face.
One day they'll get more than a handful of minutes. One day they'll get a door that locks, maybe even a bed, and enough time to get naked, even clean. When that happens, Mikey will take it slow, lick every inch of Pete's skin and make him beg for it, take him apart with hands and mouth before he lets Pete even think about coming. Then he'll do it all over again.
But now, this is what they have.
Mikey locks his fingers with Pete's and pulls him to his feet. He catches Pete's mouth in a fast, biting kiss, tasting of come, gritty with dust. He shoves Pete away with a smile that's half snarl.
They're still buckling their belts as they make a run for the bike.
Right now, this is what they have, and Mikey will take what he can get.
Frank/Gerard - not!fic sequel-ish thing to Hard Candy - three weeks later for mrsronweasley, 1200 words ( original post)
See, when Frank leaves the peep show that day he is so fucking sure that he'll be back, riding high on adrenaline, completely pumped up with how good the experience was, how much he and Gee connected and how much he has to see him again, OMG. So afterwards, his skin still warm and rough from wiping himself down with the paper towel, he stands outside on the grubby street and takes in the signs and landmarks - programs his internal map to remember where the fuck he is so he can come back. Trying to figure out how soon he can afford to come back.
And he does come back. He comes back three times. And walks past the place three times without going in. Even though he plans to every fucking time. He has fucking wet wipes in his back pocket, he's wearing his good jeans, he has thought about conversation topics. But he just, fuck he's a pussy, because now that he doesn't have his dick in his hand and the buzz of hot adrenaline in his veins he just doesn't know anymore. It's just a name, right? He doesn't even know if it's real (yeah, he does, it's totally real). No it's - fuck, it's Gerard's job to make him feel special, to make him want to come back, to keep coming back and he's a fucking sucker for falling for it.
But then he thinks about those unsure looks and that little smile. How completely not professional Gerard was acting and every other fucking detail from Gerard's lips, to the smooth skin of his back and ass and how he sounded when he came and - yeah okay so maybe he's jerked off a few times thinking about it. Or even a lot of times - and fuck, he doesn't even care if he's getting played, he just wants to do it again.
So, the fourth time he goes to that store, on that street, in that neighborhood, he looks up a the sign above the door that says "Peepshow", steels himself, and he goes inside.
He shoves his hands into his pockets because he's fucking nervous and he doesn't want it to show and he nods briefly at the kid behind the counter who's nose is buried in a comic and who doesn't even look up or seem to care that Frank is a tiny human being and looks underage. Which is a relief because Frank's not sure he could even talk right now. His heart is in his throat by the time he gets to the private booth (thank christ it's empty) and he shuts himself inside, breathing too loud, hands unsteady when he pushes his money into the box.
The numbers flash, and he hits 3 without even thinking about it. He rubs damp palms against the front of his jeans while he waits for the blind to roll away. He lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when he starts to see feet, calves, thighs in skinny jeans. But when the blind gets high enough to see hands and arms, Frank can see ink that should not be there. In fact, it's a full sleeve tattoo (a pretty cool one, if Frank's honest but he's so not paying attention), and the skin underneath is way too tan to be Gerard's and when he looks up to see the guy's face he's not at all unattractive but he is so so so not Gerard.
The guy grins at Frank with these teeth that are way too big for his head, and when Frank just gapes back he points at the handset - much the same way Gerard did the last time Frank was in this room - and it's just so, so wrong that Frank can't even bring himself to lift the handset, he just apologises to the guy even though he knows he can't hear him, fumbles with the lock and gets the fuck out of there, with like 9 mins worth of money still in on the clock and he doesn't fucking care.
God he's so stupid. What was he thinking?
He steps out into the street and the traffic noise is a physical assault. He stomps around the corner, down into this tiny alley, just needing to get away from all the noise. He gropes for his cigarettes, god he just needs to chill the fuck out and have a smoke and stop being a fucking moron. He swears at himself around the smoke hanging out of his mouth and his fucking lighter won't ignite so he swears louder and keeps clicking it til his thumb is sore and fuck he's so fucking stupid and-
Click.
A zippo flips open in front of his face, pale fingers with chipped black polish curled around it against the wind. Frank's eyes trace up the hands, over arms clad in an ancient leather jacket, to find Gerard smiling that adorable smile at him, one side of his mouth pulled higher than the other, the wind blowing his messy hair in front of his eyes as he holds the lighter out for Frank, the tiny yellow flame dancing in the wind.
"You need a light?"
Frank can't even speak. He can't even breathe. He blinks at Gerard like he's somehow willed him into existence with his brain, like if Frank closes his eyes for too long he'll disappear. But he doesn't. His grin gets a little unsure when Frank just stands there not actually doing anything, just staring dumbly with his unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. The little flame on Gerard's lighter gives out and Gerard makes a put-out noise and lights it again and that shakes Frank into motion. He leans down to light his cigarette, sucking a drag of smoke that is sort-of calming and watches while Gerard lights his own cigarette.
For a moment neither of them say anything - Frank tries to remember those conversation topics but they are just fucking gone now - Gerard is standing so close to him, he's right there and fuck, was he this good-looking last time?
"So, ah, you came back." Gerard says, finally, eyes dancing between his cigarette and Frank's face.
"Yeah, Um. But, you weren't-" Frank cuts himself off before he can say something stupid.
"Huh." Gerard says, looking at Frank really intensely, like if he stares hard enough he'll see right through him to the wall Frank's leaning on in this pretend-casual way.
Whatever he's thinking seems to process and he smiles. It's like a punch in the chest the way it hits Frank, so fucking gorgeous. "You came to see me?"
"Yeah, well," Frank shrugs, because DUH isn't it obvious?
Gerard just blinks at him again, his expression going a little soft for a long moment. Frank's about to speak just to fill the silence, when Gerard straightens up a little, and Frank catches a glimpse of him looking honest-to-god nervous before he says, "Well um, I just finished up, so I'm like, done for the day. Do you maybe want to get a coffee?"
"Yeah." Frank says, all the air rushing out of his lungs as his heart flips over. "Yeah I'd like that."
Gerard beams at him.
Gerard/Lyn-Z - not!fic - one year after Black Satin for brooklinegirl, 1400 words ( original post)
So the panties thing, becomes A Thing. Gerard absolutely wears them onstage under his jeans the next night, and he molests Frank a lot more than usual and has a LOT of trouble hiding his hard on. He barely makes it off stage before Lyn's dragging him off to any place vaguely dark and private and he nearly chokes trying not to make too much noise while she jerks him off and jesusfuck the satin feels good against his dick when she does that. When she's not kissing the fuck out of him she's whispering in his ear how fucking HOT it made her to know he was wearing them, and how much he was getting off on it.
So yeah, it becomes a theme on the tour. The guys eventually figure it out because wow, Gerard is TERRIBLE at keeping secrets and it's particularly obvious when he starts wearing selections from Lyn-Z's lingerie that are more... feminine in colour. And it's so totally NOT even CLOSE to being the weirdest shit Gerard's done they're just like, 'eh' *shrug*.
Then there was the time when Lyn cornered him, about 5 mins before he was due on stage, dragged him into the dressing room and slid her panties off from under her skirt and handed them to him. And okay it was a fucking struggle to get his pants off so he could put them on and he had to fucking run to make it to the stage on time but holy SHIT that was worth it. He was fucking on fire, the whole show, knowing Lyn-Z was side stage with NOTHING ON under that tiny skirt and fuck, the moment they finished the encore he was dragging her into the dressing room and locking his band out and he barely got his fucking pants open, he just needed to be INSIDE HER and they didn't even bother trying to be quiet that time. (The guys didn't even pretend not to notice, and while Ray looked so uncomfortable his HAIR was blushing, Frank totally just high-fived Gerard afterwards.)
That was about the point in time when Gerard realised he was gonna marry Lyn-Z.
But yeah, this is not the story I'm supposed to be telling.
So okay, a year later (well a year and a bit, thank you Bandom Timeline) and they're fucking MARRIED and co-habitating, and making art together, and having ALL THE SEX and they have a giant dress up box, and they're done touring, and just chilling out and being people and being sickenly coupley. Okay, Gerard's missing the guys pretty hard because that's what happens with tour family, but it's okay because Frank's birthday AKA Halloween is coming up and they're all getting together for a massive blowout. And wow, maybe he's got a little too much time on his hands given how much planning he's doing on their costumes - but they're totally going to take advantage of it as an excuse to play dress ups in public. (Well the guys totally know - so much more than they want to - about Gerard's penchant for women's clothing, so Gerard's costume is not even gonna be a big deal.)
So Gerard's basically going to the party AS Lyn-Z, and he's getting really good at it now, he's got his own pair(s) of knee high boots that actually fit, his hair is long enough to get into pigtails and he's figured out how to apply Lyn-Z's extremely red lipstick (All Fired Up!) without it getting smudgy. He even has proper bra-pad things like the kind they use in the movies to fill out Lyn-Z's bra (he could buy a bra that actually fits him better, but he prefers to wears hers, even if the straps are a little tight) that he's sporting underneath the cute sniper shirt he's wearing, teamed with a tiny black pleated skirt. He does still need a little help from Lyn getting the boots done up though, those sky-hook lacing things are fucking complicated.
He looks fucking HOT, even if he says so himself, but he is in no way going to be the centre of attention tonight. Not with Lyn-Z beside him.
"Babe, are you nearly ready?" He shouts through the bathroom door - she wouldn't even let him help her get dressed, even though he's the one who got her costume made (god he's gonna owe a favour to Colleen for that one, but holy HELL so worth it) - she had some idea about keeping the mystery, and being able to reveal the look as a whole, to give it more impact.
As usual, she's totally fucking right.
When she steps out of the bathroom she looks fucking amazing and seeing the whole look for the first time in one hit really does floor him. And maybe it makes him a narcissist, but he's never wanted to fuck her more than he has at this moment.
Narcissistic, perhaps, because at this moment she's dressed like Gerard, in his full Black Parade uniform and makeup.
She's got her hair slicked back at the back and sides, but shaggy at the top, and by some kind of magic (probably very similar to what they did to Ray's fro on the Ghost Of You shoot) it makes her haircut look messy and boyish and very similar to what Gerard's hair toward the end of the Black Parade tour when he went back to black. Her hair is inky black, darker than he's used to and he should have expected that because he was there when she bought the black hairspray, but still the overall effect is still a shock. She's done the makeup perfectly - white face, heavy dark eyes, pale lips. She didn't go the full skull look and he's glad for that now, because it doesn't need that. She looks fucking incredible.
And then there's the uniform. And shit yeah it was worth the begging and grovelling to Colleen to get this one tailor made for Lyn-Z at short notice because it's a perfect fit. Lyn-Z's taped her boobs down, and that plus slightly boxy shoulders totally changes the shape of her body, although the curve of her hips is still obvious when you look for it, but then Gerard's kinda got chick-hips himself. The tailored pants make her legs look longer, and the chunky boots are so heavy and masculine compared to her usual heeled kind.
She looks solid and tough, and even though she's wearing makeup, even though it's still HER face underneath it all - his vision of her is doubling before his eyes, her gender blurring and it's breathtaking - beautiful. It's the same kind of mindfuck he gets when he's got his make-up and outfit just right and he can totally pass as a chick and god, it just DOES THINGS to him.
"Jesus, Lyn."
She just shakes her head, lips already curving in a smile and he can't even let himself touch her. They'd both be gone. They'd never make the party, and he's starting to wonder if that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Particularly if she was gonna go to the toy chest next to the dress-up box and strap it on for him. Oh god, she could just push his panties down and bend him over the couch and just fucking do him, they wouldn't even need to get undressed.
He gets kind of distracted by the idea and has to adjust his panties and god she KNOWS what he's thinking. They can't even kiss because her lipstick that he's wearing gets everywhere - he knows this from experience - so it's gonna be a long fucking night. But the anticipation is only gonna make it better.
He gets as close to her as he dares, skating his fingers over her arms, chest, waist, feeling her soft curves under the stiff, starchy material. She leans close, til their lips are a breath apart and promises, "Later." before leaning back, out of reach, with a breathy chuckle.
Fuck, yeah later. He'll hold her to that.
(Also, the incredible kidsxheroes drew Lyn-Z in her Gerard Outfit for me because she is AMAZING.)
Pete/Mikey/Alicia - sort of angsty Summer Of Like snippet, written for anon_lovefest, 500 words ( original post)
"Mikey. Mikey, fuck. So good."
Pete buries his face in Mikey's neck, smelling sweat and hairspray. He strokes his hands over Mikey's chest, his thumbs bumping over the jut of his ribs. He can't stop saying Mikey's name.
Alicia stops sucking Pete off, but keeps her fingers loosely around his dick. "I'm getting a little offended, Peter. I have a name too."
"Fuck, sorry. I'm just, I get in a loop you know, I can't-"
He loses the next words when she squeezes his cock. "You know Mikey's not the one down here." Pete glances down hazily, barely able to make out Alicia's heavily lined eyes in the watery light leaking in the van window. She's kneeling on the floor, her short skirt all rucked up, button-up shirt hanging open and her underwear's up on the seat beside Mikey. She looks like sex.
He stutters out her name and that's enough for her to bend her head again, swallowing his dick, her mouth hot and perfect. Pete groans and leans his head back against the seat, fingers tightening on Mikey's shoulder.
"It could be me down there, if you wanted." Mikey whispers the words hot against Pete's cheek. It's not the first time he's offered.
Mikey slides a hand down Pete's chest, rough tips of his fingers catching on Pete's nipples, his belly button. Pete catches Mikey's hand as it reaches his hip, tugging it back up above his waist.
Mikey's mouth pulls to the side, but he doesn’t say anything. Pete grabs Mikey by the back of his head, pulling him down to kiss him hard. It's easier to kiss Mikey than try to come up with something to say that's not gonna make him sound like an asshole.
He licks inside Mikey's mouth, seeking out Alicia's taste. Mikey went down on her earlier, her pale legs locked around his shoulders, while Pete watched them with his hand on his dick.
Alicia does something amazing with her tongue and Pete's hips jump up off the seat. He breaks the kiss, groaning and shoving his face into Mikey's bony shoulder. Mikey's jerking off now, Pete can tell by the stutter of his arm, the cadence of his breath, but he won't look down to see.
He keeps his eyes closed, his mouth open warm on Mikey's neck, feeling his pulse beating under his lips like the bass thumping up through his feet when he's onstage.
He comes in Alicia's mouth, his hands clenched to fists, groaning Mikey's name.
After, he melts into the seat, watching with dazed eyes as Mikey slides to the floor, kissing Alicia hard and fierce, like he wants to devour her. He presses her back against the seat, jerking his dick with sharp movements until he comes all over her thigh.
When they come up for air they're both wrecks of messy hair and smeared eyeliner. Mikey adjusts his glasses, his eyes catching on Pete's through the smeared lenses.
He holds Pete's gaze and licks his lips, slow and deliberate.
Killjoys in Space ficlet for turps33 416 words ( original post)
"I don't think it's a BL sleeper." Mikey says, droll. The ship is about two decades older than the Tranz Am and from what Gerard can see on the viewer, the hull is a patchwork of mended metal. The chances of it surviving a re-entry look chancy.
"You never know." Gerard says stubbornly. He doesn't glance up at the green mask pinned to the wall with a knife through the eyehole, a reminder not to get caught out again. Trust no one.
"Look," Mikey says, muting the distress signal. "We can out run that piece of shit easy. If they really are in trouble we should try to help."
"You're such a fucking boy scout." Gerard says, but he puts the scrambler on and answers the call.
The image that buzzes into view on the screen is a guy about their age, or older, with a wild mane of frizzy hair. He's not wearing white, and the interior of the ship - what they can see of it - looks as rough and dilapidated as the exterior. If it's a BL trap they've gone pretty deep cover, deeper than they would usually bother. Mikey's probably right. Again.
"This is Raygun Jones, of the Jet Star, is someone there?" He blinks into the receiver, no doubt seeing digital haze the scrambler turns their transmissions into, "Are you using a scrambler?"
"We're private people." Gerard says simply, "What do you need? Your ship doesn't look damaged."
"Med supplies, anything you have. I've got some credits or I can trade for them."
"Is it infectious? You don't look sick." Gerard blurts out, and Mikey kicks him. Gerard shoots him a glare.
"It's not for me." They guy runs a hand through his frizzy mane of hair. He may look healthy, but he also looks tired. "It's for her." He says, stepping aside from the transmitter and revealing another figure, prone and immobile, with the same frizzy hair.
Gerard's breath sticks in his throat. It's funny how when you haven't seen something for a really long time, you start to forget, to wonder if you made it up. Like sunshine, or trees grown in the earth, or food that resembles food. Did it really exist, or did he just read about it?
It's been a really long time since Gerard's seen a child, and now there's one on his screen.
Frank/Gerard as street racers ficlet foramproof, 300 words ( original post)
Gerard jerks the wheel, the squeal of rubber loud in his ears as the Trans Am slides around a corner. He switches up gears, feeling her hum all around him; through his fingers, under his feet. She wants to win as much as he does.
He floors it down the straight, keeping her steady, counting down the seconds to the next turn. A glance in his rearview shows him a slash of green and yellow and he scowls. Some skunk-haired punk who doesn't know shit about shit is not going to take his title. Gerard owns these fucking roads, and he's going to show Iero exactly that.
Iero pulls up beside him, his engine rumbling in broken harmony with Gerard's Trans Am. Gerard barely spares him a glance, and when he does Iero is frowning in concentration. He'll need it. After the next few curves there's an incline, and the trade off between speed and handling becomes crucial. Gerard knows exactly how to handle it, and that's when Iero will get left for dead.
He doesn't though. He holds his own, the fucker, keeping pace with Gerard, their engines growling and panting, all revs and exhaust. Gerard's body vibrates with adrenaline, his heartbeat pounding his blood like the engine pumping fuel. He doesn't look at Iero, but he can feel him, hear him, just outside his blind spot as they crest the rise, the finish line coming into view.
They explode past the checkpoint with a flash of chequered flags and a sharp intake of breath from Gerard as he shoots across it, Iero flying past in tandem.
Gerard comes first, but only barely.
Jamia/Lyn-Z/Alicia all girl circle jerk ficlet for halfeatenmoon, 430 words ( original post)
Jamia shifts, pressing her thighs together. This had seemed like a better idea, well... before she started to sober up. Lyn had been so insistent that it would be a great bonding experience or whatever, and then there was that whole argument for feminism and claiming the circle jerk for the female sex - it had all sounded so reasonable.
Now that they were actually here, and she needed to take off her pants, it was a little intimidating. It also didn't help that she was the only one wearing pants. Lyn had just slipped her panties off under her skirt and Alicia had done some kind of slippery move with her tights, leaving her in just her shirt, which was long enough to be a dress anyway.
"C'mon, Jai, don't be shy." Lyn says, flashing a scarlet smile.
Jamia fights a blush, but undoes her pants, deciding not to take them off in favour of just getting them open. "So do we just...?" She asks, her voice coming out uneven.
"Um, yeah, I guess." Alicia says, then her her hand disappears under the hem of her shirt.
Lyn is less shy about it; she eases up onto her knees and flips her skirt up. Jamia's not sure where to look, if she's even supposed to look. She focuses instead on wedging her hand down the front of her pants. There's not really enough room to do much, but she's wet anyway. She's been wet since Lyn brought the whole idea up, even more so when she realised they were actually going to do it.
She huffs out a breath when her fingers finds her clit, her face flooding warm when a small noise escapes her lips. She closes her eyes, just feeling it for a few moments. She so wet, so fucking hot. When she opens her eyes again it's to a view of Lyn's fingers, shiny with her own wetness as she touches herself. Jamia lets out a breath and averts her eyes.
"It's okay, you can look." Lyn says, her voice gentle, a little rough. Jamia looks back and Lyn shifts a little, spreading her legs wider. "I don't mind."
"It's kind of the whole point, isn't it?" Alicia adds, creeping the hem of her shirt up higher, until Jamia can see her hand pressed between her legs.
Fighting a fierce blush, Jamia nods, and takes off her pants.
If she's going to do this, she might as well do it properly.
Frank/Gerard - cop Frank, fugitive Gerard ficlet for greedy_dancer, 350 words ( original post)
Frank almost hadn't recognised Way. A lot of fugitives will change their hair, or facial hair, or dress differently to avoid notice.
This is something else.
He waits in the shadows for Way to leave the crumbling apartment block. His footsteps announce him before Frank even lays eyes on him but Frank stays in the dark until he can make a positive ID before he makes his move.
He's got Way by the arm, one wrist cuffed and his body pressed against the wall before Way can even make a noise. When he does it's a soft "oof" followed by a strangled "ouch" as the cuffs tighten.
"So you found me, huh?" He asks, not sounding surprised. He turns and locks eyes with Frank, arching one perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, his painted lips quirking up at one side. The light from the streetlight is harsh and should be unforgiving, but it makes him looks like fucking Marlene Dietrich with dark hair. His makeup is perfect, his lips lush and dark, his features nothing but feminine. If Frank hadn't seen the mugshots, he'd be doubting himself right now.
"I'm taking you in." He says gruffly, cuffing Way's other hand and trying not to notice the perfectly manicured fingernails, the flash of stockinged thigh where the split in his dress is high.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" Way asks, tilting his head and fucking batting his eyelashes like an actress from the 20's. "I'm innocent, you know." He does this little movement, almost like a shimmy. It rolls down his torso and arms, making the silky material of his dress ripple.
Frank has to take a breath, swallow it down, and pretend his cock didn't just take notice of that. He reminds himself there's a guy under the dress - a wanted fugitive at that - one that Frank needs to take into headquarters to answer for his crimes.
Way bats his eyes again.
Frank's cock really doesn't care.
*
It continues to be VERY apparent that I just can't write commentfic.
always-a-girl!Gerard/Lyn-Z/Frank - continuation of the Punk-Ass-Threesome High School AU - 8 hours after Fuck Standards for shiningartifact, 1700 words ( original post)
There's a boy in Gee's basement. Well, okay, that sounds a lot creepier than it is. He's not like, tied up and being tortured or anything. Gee's just doing what she would be doing any other Friday night - watching videos with Lindsey, eating popcorn with extra butter - but she's having trouble settling into it and relaxing because Frank is here too.
Frank, is sitting on Gee's bed, in Gee's basement and Gee is totally not used to having boys down here. Well, except for Mikey, but he doesn't count. Oh, and except for that time that Mikey brought that guy Pete from the interstate soccer team down here, but Gee's not supposed to know about that, and she doesn't want to know about that, so yeah.
Anyway, there is a boy on Gee's bed. And it's Lindsey's fault he's even here because she's the one who invited him. Well, sort of. After the whole making out at lunch thing (which ended way too quickly when one of the teachers decided they were being 'indecent', what-the-fuck-ever) Lindsey teased Gee mercilessly about her boycrush and kept talking about how cute Frank looks when he blushes, for the rest of the day. Then when they were leaving school, Frank was right there at the school gates, and they could have just walked past him and gone on with their lives, but no, Lindsey turned around and glared at him, until he said "What?" and she shrugged and said, "You coming?" and just like that he was invited to movie night at Gee's.
And now Gee is having a really hard time concentrating on this supposedly-terrifying French horror film, because trying to read subtitles when she can feel the warmth of Frank's shoulder next to hers, when she can smell that musky scent of the deodorant he came back from the bathroom stinking of, when she can remember what his lips felt like when he kissed her... well, you get the idea.
Apparently she's not the only one having trouble concentrating, because Lindsey keeps sighing and wiggling around on the bed beside her like she's bored too. As much as Gee isn't getting into the movie, she feels kind of bad for the filmmakers that they're being such a terrible audience, so she turns to say something to Lindsey about suspension of disbelief, but she doesn't get two words out before Lindsey's tongue is in her mouth.
Gee makes a small noise of surprise which Lindsey swallows and then they're kissing and Gee's having a hard time remembering why this is a bad idea. Lindsey is a seriously good kisser, okay? And she's really getting into it, pressing Gee backwards until hey - is that Frank's shoulder digging into her back? Right, yes it is, because there is a boy on Gee's bed, how the hell did she forget that?
She breaks the kiss, panting, tasting Lindsey's lipstick on her mouth. Her face feels really hot and even though she doesn't really WANT to remind herself that she's making out in front Frank for the second time that day, she can't help but look at him. And he is staring back at both of them, biting hard on his wet lips and looking so turned on, and hot, and gorgeous.
Gee's breath catches and she's stares right back, anything she might have wanted to say dying on her lips. Lindsey laughs and shoves Gee forwards and suddenly Frank's right in front of her, sharing breath, licking his lips and for a moment it's awkward and Frank looks really unsure, but then he leans and kisses her so sweetly she can't even fathom not kissing back. Gee slides her tongue into Frank's mouth, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders.
Lindsey leans in behind Gee, chuckling softly into her neck as she presses her breasts into Gee's back, crowding Gee closer to Frank until he's sliding down on the bed. Gee climbs on top of him, chasing his mouth, then Lindsey's giggling and stretching out over both of them. Gee's sandwiched between them, Lindsey all warm and soft at her back, Frank hard and solid against her front and fuck, she didn't expect this, didn't plan for it, but she can't stop now, it's too fucking good.
Frank breaks for air, laughing and panting, "Fuck, this is not real, how is this real?" Lindsey cracks up laughing at that and so does Gee, pressing her face into Frank's chest and stifling her giggles into his chest. When she looks up, Frank's watching her, looking kind of awed and shell shocked, and she tilts her head to kiss him again and this time it's fucking serious. They end up grinding on each other, Lindsey all over Gee, hands everywhere, mouth hot on her neck, while Gee rocks down against Frank, their bodies sliding together until their legs are scissored and fuck, fuck she knows she's writhing on his leg like a slut and she doesn't even care. It just feels so good.
He's loving it too, she can feel it, the press of his hard-on against her thigh should be weird and scary but it's not, it's just fucking hot. It makes her feel so sexy and powerful that she can do this to him and she feels safe because Lindsey is right there with her, guiding her, helping her, hands dancing between both of them, painted fingernails scraping at skin.
Frank starts to buck under her, moaning, his movements getting more fierce and fuck, Gee's getting close too - it's not just making out anymore. Frank freezes, grabbing Gee's hips, breaking the kiss and panting. "Fuck, stop, you have to- you have to stop, or I'm gonna-" he's shaking, looking panicked and out of control, sweaty and gorgeous and so on edge. Fuck, Gee loves it. This thrill of pride rolls through her - she did that to him and oh my god, she doesn't want to stop. She wants to take him apart.
Lindsey's the one who decides it though, leaning in close to Gee's ear, whisper hotly, "Don't stop," as she rolls her hips against Gee's, getting Gee moving again. She rocks down against Frank, rubbing her thigh between his, against his cock through his pants. He whimpers, thrusting back against her, any control lost as his face creases up like he's in pain. He shakes and bucks under her, making these incredible breathy noises that set her on fire. He grips her arms, tight, shuddering and groaning as his hips leap up one more time and oh fuck she can feel the damp heat spread through his jeans as he trembles and comes, right under her. It should be gross, but it's not, it's just so fucking hot.
His head drops back against the bed. He's panting, shuddering and Gee stares at him, breathless and awed. Lindsey makes the next move. She shoves her hand down the front of Gee's jeans and Gee loses any scrap of thought she had left. She moans, her head dropping forwards as she bucks down against Lindsey's hand - Lindsey's fingers don't even make it into Gee's underwear but it doesn't matter, she jerks Gee off through the soaked cotton, her mouth hot and warm on Gee's shoulder, biting lightly at the skin. She knows exactly how to touch Gee and fuck, it's good, hot, perfect. Gee comes too fast, startling herself with her own groan, her eyes flying open to find Frank looking up at her, his eyes wide, his mouth open and her pussy floods and clenches under Lindsey's fingers as she comes her fucking brains out.
God it's too much. She wants to hide her face, run away, but she can't. Lindsey's all over her, grabbing her arms with wet fingers and pulling her close, kissing her breathless. She grabs Gee's hand and shoves it under her skirt, into her panties and holy fuck, she's so wet. So hot. Gee can't not do this. She knows Frank's watching and that just makes it hotter as she brings Lindsey off, rubbing hard and fast at her clit until she's writhing and moaning, holding Gee's wrist tight like she's worried she'll stop.
Gee doesn't fucking stop, she keeps going until Lindsey loses it, throwing her head around, groaning, shaking, her cunt trembling and pulsing under Gee's fingers. Fuck, she loves this, loves seeing Linds come apart like this, she's so fucking beautiful, all wild and unconstrained. Gee doesn't stop the onslaught until Lindsey collapses onto the bed, no doubt still feeling aftershocks. Gee finally nerves herself to look at Frank who is just gaping at both of them, looking awestruck and fucked out and totally blown away.
Gee has to stifle a laugh into the back of her hand, getting a nose full of Lindsey's scent on her fingers and she starts to lick them clean without even thinking about it, at least not until Frank lets out this choked noise and she sees the way he's watching her do it.
"What?" she asks, suddenly defensive, one fingertip still on her lips. She's not the one who just came in her pants. Well okay, technically she is, but that's not the point.
Frank just shakes his head though, a giant, manic smile stretching his mouth, looking dazed. "Seriously, you two," he glances between Gee and Lindsey like they're going to disappear or burst into flames any second, "How the fuck is this my life?"
He looks so blown away Gee can't even help it. She cracks a smile, sharing it with Lindsey, who smiles back her, all lazy and fucked-out in that way that means she'll be pulling her bra off any second now.
Gee grabs Frank's wrist and yanks his arm closer, pinching the soft flesh of his upper arm - hard.
"Ow! The fuck?" Frank pulls his arm back, rubbing hard at the sore spot, pouty and adorable.
"Guess you're not dreaming then, huh?" Gee says with a grin.
Frank flips her off with a smile.
Pete/Mikey in the Killjoys!verse, 6 months after Pete/Mikey on a motorcycle for turps33, 1100 words ( original post)
Mikey's bike slides, kicking up a dustcloud as they skid to a halt outside another nameless abandoned gas station.
Mikey's ears as still ringing when he and Pete burst through the doors, boots smacking hard on dusty concrete as they sweep the place. Mikey clutches his gun, still warm from the shootout, ducking gracefully between the battered shelves, eyes scanning for any movement, any sign this place is spoken for.
He lets out a breath. It's deserted. "We're clear."
Pete's at the window, scanning the horizon, jitter in his fingers. He jumps at Mikey's light touch to his shoulder, coiled tight, ready to spring.
"It's okay, you got them all. There's no more coming." Mikey can taste sand, clinging to his lips from riding without a helmet. He can still feel the hot brand of Pete's fingers at his waist, holding tight as they sped across the ground, Pete's blasts dull in his ears under the rush of wind.
Pete's still out there, still fighting. Mikey holsters his gun and steps up behind him. He wraps an arm around Pete's waist, tucks his head into Pete's neck to nuzzle him softly. "It's okay." He whispers.
He can feel the too-fast pulse of Pete's heartbeat under his lips. He shifts his hand higher on Pete's chest, feels it there too. "I'm here." Mikey says, spreading his fingers wide over Pete's heart. Pete's chest shifts under Mikey's hand as he lets out a long breath.
The near-silent moment is erased when Pete turns in Mikey's arms, dusty fingers coming up to frame his cheekbones and pull him in for a hard kiss. Rusty shelves press hard into Mikey's shoulder blades as Pete pushes him back, pressing his tongue into his mouth, tasting him. He's breathing hard through his nose, and it brushes Mikey's cheek. Mikey can taste the road on him, the sharp tang of fear and the rush of blood that comes with gunfire. He falls into the kiss, letting Pete suck him into the adrenaline current, giving it all back, letting the need run through them like a feedback loop.
Mikey breaks the kiss, panting, and turns them, shoving Pete back against the windows. He fits his hands tight to Pete's wrists and holds them out, pressing the back of Pete's hands to the dusty glass. He's so jumped up he's sure he can feel the pulse of blood under his fingers as he leans in, his panting breaths bouncing back of Pete's lips before he kisses him again.
There's nothing soft about it. Pete's body is hard against his, their teeth clash as they wrestle to get closer, Pete trying to tug his hands free, already impatient to touch. Mikey releases Pete's wrists and immediately drops to his knees, hard on the dusty concrete, fighting with Pete's belt and zip. Pete's hands are already in Mikey's hair when he gets them open, then he's tasting sweat and smelling leather, the music of Pete's choked noises in his ears as he sucks him down as far and as fast as he can.
There's no time to ease into it, they're overdue already and the guys will be flipping when they hear of the firefight. Mikey shifts straight into overdrive, sliding one hand under Pete's balls, stroking a finger between his cheeks, flicking his tongue.
Pete's fingers tighten, twisting in his hair. It stings, but it's good, he can feel it - he's alive. He bounces his head, working his mouth as fast as he can, breathing hard through his nose. He's hitting every short cut, every trick to make Pete moan. It works. Pete grips Mikey's head, fucking his face, and Mikey lets him. He needs this, wants it. Pete's dick tightens under his tongue, feeling huge in his mouth, then he gasps, shaking, convulsing and coming, repeating Mikey's name like a breathy mantra. Mikey pulls off enough to swallow, hot and bitter on his tongue - good, real, human.
He reaches for his belt as he climbs unsteadily to his feet. Pete grins, his teeth pressing against Mikey's cheek as he leans in, sweaty, blissed and fucked out. Mikey gets his dick out his pants about the same time Pete starts licking Mikey's neck, biting in that good way, giving him goosebumps. Mikey's sweat lends slide to his hand as he jerks himself off, breathing in Pete, and sweat, and dust, as his fingers find a rhythm.
Pete reaches for him clumsily, but he's too fucked out and Mikey's too gone. He slaps Pete's hands away, needing it to be fast, needing it now. Pete doesn't fight him, just bites behind Mikey's ear and shoves his hands up under the zebra striped shirt to pinch Mikey's nipples until he's groaning, choking.
"Fuck, Pete. Motherfucker." Mikey spills the words out, already on knife edge. He quickens his hand to a blur and then fuck, oh fuck he's bucking into his fist, coming hard. Pete falls to his knees too late to do anything but catch Mikey's release on his chin and cheek.
Mikey stands there, his body arched forward, dripping dick in his fist, his breath harsh and loud in the quiet gas station. Every pore, every cell is zinging. He looks down at Pete - flushed, sweaty and windblown - his jacket marked with grease and someone else's blood, his face smeared with Mikey's come. Their eyes lock and they breathe through it together, both of them in exactly the same place.
Mikey reaches down, his fingers still trembling with spent adrenaline, and wipes his come off Pete's face.
One day they'll get more than a handful of minutes. One day they'll get a door that locks, maybe even a bed, and enough time to get naked, even clean. When that happens, Mikey will take it slow, lick every inch of Pete's skin and make him beg for it, take him apart with hands and mouth before he lets Pete even think about coming. Then he'll do it all over again.
But now, this is what they have.
Mikey locks his fingers with Pete's and pulls him to his feet. He catches Pete's mouth in a fast, biting kiss, tasting of come, gritty with dust. He shoves Pete away with a smile that's half snarl.
They're still buckling their belts as they make a run for the bike.
Right now, this is what they have, and Mikey will take what he can get.
Frank/Gerard - not!fic sequel-ish thing to Hard Candy - three weeks later for mrsronweasley, 1200 words ( original post)
See, when Frank leaves the peep show that day he is so fucking sure that he'll be back, riding high on adrenaline, completely pumped up with how good the experience was, how much he and Gee connected and how much he has to see him again, OMG. So afterwards, his skin still warm and rough from wiping himself down with the paper towel, he stands outside on the grubby street and takes in the signs and landmarks - programs his internal map to remember where the fuck he is so he can come back. Trying to figure out how soon he can afford to come back.
And he does come back. He comes back three times. And walks past the place three times without going in. Even though he plans to every fucking time. He has fucking wet wipes in his back pocket, he's wearing his good jeans, he has thought about conversation topics. But he just, fuck he's a pussy, because now that he doesn't have his dick in his hand and the buzz of hot adrenaline in his veins he just doesn't know anymore. It's just a name, right? He doesn't even know if it's real (yeah, he does, it's totally real). No it's - fuck, it's Gerard's job to make him feel special, to make him want to come back, to keep coming back and he's a fucking sucker for falling for it.
But then he thinks about those unsure looks and that little smile. How completely not professional Gerard was acting and every other fucking detail from Gerard's lips, to the smooth skin of his back and ass and how he sounded when he came and - yeah okay so maybe he's jerked off a few times thinking about it. Or even a lot of times - and fuck, he doesn't even care if he's getting played, he just wants to do it again.
So, the fourth time he goes to that store, on that street, in that neighborhood, he looks up a the sign above the door that says "Peepshow", steels himself, and he goes inside.
He shoves his hands into his pockets because he's fucking nervous and he doesn't want it to show and he nods briefly at the kid behind the counter who's nose is buried in a comic and who doesn't even look up or seem to care that Frank is a tiny human being and looks underage. Which is a relief because Frank's not sure he could even talk right now. His heart is in his throat by the time he gets to the private booth (thank christ it's empty) and he shuts himself inside, breathing too loud, hands unsteady when he pushes his money into the box.
The numbers flash, and he hits 3 without even thinking about it. He rubs damp palms against the front of his jeans while he waits for the blind to roll away. He lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when he starts to see feet, calves, thighs in skinny jeans. But when the blind gets high enough to see hands and arms, Frank can see ink that should not be there. In fact, it's a full sleeve tattoo (a pretty cool one, if Frank's honest but he's so not paying attention), and the skin underneath is way too tan to be Gerard's and when he looks up to see the guy's face he's not at all unattractive but he is so so so not Gerard.
The guy grins at Frank with these teeth that are way too big for his head, and when Frank just gapes back he points at the handset - much the same way Gerard did the last time Frank was in this room - and it's just so, so wrong that Frank can't even bring himself to lift the handset, he just apologises to the guy even though he knows he can't hear him, fumbles with the lock and gets the fuck out of there, with like 9 mins worth of money still in on the clock and he doesn't fucking care.
God he's so stupid. What was he thinking?
He steps out into the street and the traffic noise is a physical assault. He stomps around the corner, down into this tiny alley, just needing to get away from all the noise. He gropes for his cigarettes, god he just needs to chill the fuck out and have a smoke and stop being a fucking moron. He swears at himself around the smoke hanging out of his mouth and his fucking lighter won't ignite so he swears louder and keeps clicking it til his thumb is sore and fuck he's so fucking stupid and-
Click.
A zippo flips open in front of his face, pale fingers with chipped black polish curled around it against the wind. Frank's eyes trace up the hands, over arms clad in an ancient leather jacket, to find Gerard smiling that adorable smile at him, one side of his mouth pulled higher than the other, the wind blowing his messy hair in front of his eyes as he holds the lighter out for Frank, the tiny yellow flame dancing in the wind.
"You need a light?"
Frank can't even speak. He can't even breathe. He blinks at Gerard like he's somehow willed him into existence with his brain, like if Frank closes his eyes for too long he'll disappear. But he doesn't. His grin gets a little unsure when Frank just stands there not actually doing anything, just staring dumbly with his unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. The little flame on Gerard's lighter gives out and Gerard makes a put-out noise and lights it again and that shakes Frank into motion. He leans down to light his cigarette, sucking a drag of smoke that is sort-of calming and watches while Gerard lights his own cigarette.
For a moment neither of them say anything - Frank tries to remember those conversation topics but they are just fucking gone now - Gerard is standing so close to him, he's right there and fuck, was he this good-looking last time?
"So, ah, you came back." Gerard says, finally, eyes dancing between his cigarette and Frank's face.
"Yeah, Um. But, you weren't-" Frank cuts himself off before he can say something stupid.
"Huh." Gerard says, looking at Frank really intensely, like if he stares hard enough he'll see right through him to the wall Frank's leaning on in this pretend-casual way.
Whatever he's thinking seems to process and he smiles. It's like a punch in the chest the way it hits Frank, so fucking gorgeous. "You came to see me?"
"Yeah, well," Frank shrugs, because DUH isn't it obvious?
Gerard just blinks at him again, his expression going a little soft for a long moment. Frank's about to speak just to fill the silence, when Gerard straightens up a little, and Frank catches a glimpse of him looking honest-to-god nervous before he says, "Well um, I just finished up, so I'm like, done for the day. Do you maybe want to get a coffee?"
"Yeah." Frank says, all the air rushing out of his lungs as his heart flips over. "Yeah I'd like that."
Gerard beams at him.
Gerard/Lyn-Z - not!fic - one year after Black Satin for brooklinegirl, 1400 words ( original post)
So the panties thing, becomes A Thing. Gerard absolutely wears them onstage under his jeans the next night, and he molests Frank a lot more than usual and has a LOT of trouble hiding his hard on. He barely makes it off stage before Lyn's dragging him off to any place vaguely dark and private and he nearly chokes trying not to make too much noise while she jerks him off and jesusfuck the satin feels good against his dick when she does that. When she's not kissing the fuck out of him she's whispering in his ear how fucking HOT it made her to know he was wearing them, and how much he was getting off on it.
So yeah, it becomes a theme on the tour. The guys eventually figure it out because wow, Gerard is TERRIBLE at keeping secrets and it's particularly obvious when he starts wearing selections from Lyn-Z's lingerie that are more... feminine in colour. And it's so totally NOT even CLOSE to being the weirdest shit Gerard's done they're just like, 'eh' *shrug*.
Then there was the time when Lyn cornered him, about 5 mins before he was due on stage, dragged him into the dressing room and slid her panties off from under her skirt and handed them to him. And okay it was a fucking struggle to get his pants off so he could put them on and he had to fucking run to make it to the stage on time but holy SHIT that was worth it. He was fucking on fire, the whole show, knowing Lyn-Z was side stage with NOTHING ON under that tiny skirt and fuck, the moment they finished the encore he was dragging her into the dressing room and locking his band out and he barely got his fucking pants open, he just needed to be INSIDE HER and they didn't even bother trying to be quiet that time. (The guys didn't even pretend not to notice, and while Ray looked so uncomfortable his HAIR was blushing, Frank totally just high-fived Gerard afterwards.)
That was about the point in time when Gerard realised he was gonna marry Lyn-Z.
But yeah, this is not the story I'm supposed to be telling.
So okay, a year later (well a year and a bit, thank you Bandom Timeline) and they're fucking MARRIED and co-habitating, and making art together, and having ALL THE SEX and they have a giant dress up box, and they're done touring, and just chilling out and being people and being sickenly coupley. Okay, Gerard's missing the guys pretty hard because that's what happens with tour family, but it's okay because Frank's birthday AKA Halloween is coming up and they're all getting together for a massive blowout. And wow, maybe he's got a little too much time on his hands given how much planning he's doing on their costumes - but they're totally going to take advantage of it as an excuse to play dress ups in public. (Well the guys totally know - so much more than they want to - about Gerard's penchant for women's clothing, so Gerard's costume is not even gonna be a big deal.)
So Gerard's basically going to the party AS Lyn-Z, and he's getting really good at it now, he's got his own pair(s) of knee high boots that actually fit, his hair is long enough to get into pigtails and he's figured out how to apply Lyn-Z's extremely red lipstick (All Fired Up!) without it getting smudgy. He even has proper bra-pad things like the kind they use in the movies to fill out Lyn-Z's bra (he could buy a bra that actually fits him better, but he prefers to wears hers, even if the straps are a little tight) that he's sporting underneath the cute sniper shirt he's wearing, teamed with a tiny black pleated skirt. He does still need a little help from Lyn getting the boots done up though, those sky-hook lacing things are fucking complicated.
He looks fucking HOT, even if he says so himself, but he is in no way going to be the centre of attention tonight. Not with Lyn-Z beside him.
"Babe, are you nearly ready?" He shouts through the bathroom door - she wouldn't even let him help her get dressed, even though he's the one who got her costume made (god he's gonna owe a favour to Colleen for that one, but holy HELL so worth it) - she had some idea about keeping the mystery, and being able to reveal the look as a whole, to give it more impact.
As usual, she's totally fucking right.
When she steps out of the bathroom she looks fucking amazing and seeing the whole look for the first time in one hit really does floor him. And maybe it makes him a narcissist, but he's never wanted to fuck her more than he has at this moment.
Narcissistic, perhaps, because at this moment she's dressed like Gerard, in his full Black Parade uniform and makeup.
She's got her hair slicked back at the back and sides, but shaggy at the top, and by some kind of magic (probably very similar to what they did to Ray's fro on the Ghost Of You shoot) it makes her haircut look messy and boyish and very similar to what Gerard's hair toward the end of the Black Parade tour when he went back to black. Her hair is inky black, darker than he's used to and he should have expected that because he was there when she bought the black hairspray, but still the overall effect is still a shock. She's done the makeup perfectly - white face, heavy dark eyes, pale lips. She didn't go the full skull look and he's glad for that now, because it doesn't need that. She looks fucking incredible.
And then there's the uniform. And shit yeah it was worth the begging and grovelling to Colleen to get this one tailor made for Lyn-Z at short notice because it's a perfect fit. Lyn-Z's taped her boobs down, and that plus slightly boxy shoulders totally changes the shape of her body, although the curve of her hips is still obvious when you look for it, but then Gerard's kinda got chick-hips himself. The tailored pants make her legs look longer, and the chunky boots are so heavy and masculine compared to her usual heeled kind.
She looks solid and tough, and even though she's wearing makeup, even though it's still HER face underneath it all - his vision of her is doubling before his eyes, her gender blurring and it's breathtaking - beautiful. It's the same kind of mindfuck he gets when he's got his make-up and outfit just right and he can totally pass as a chick and god, it just DOES THINGS to him.
"Jesus, Lyn."
She just shakes her head, lips already curving in a smile and he can't even let himself touch her. They'd both be gone. They'd never make the party, and he's starting to wonder if that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Particularly if she was gonna go to the toy chest next to the dress-up box and strap it on for him. Oh god, she could just push his panties down and bend him over the couch and just fucking do him, they wouldn't even need to get undressed.
He gets kind of distracted by the idea and has to adjust his panties and god she KNOWS what he's thinking. They can't even kiss because her lipstick that he's wearing gets everywhere - he knows this from experience - so it's gonna be a long fucking night. But the anticipation is only gonna make it better.
He gets as close to her as he dares, skating his fingers over her arms, chest, waist, feeling her soft curves under the stiff, starchy material. She leans close, til their lips are a breath apart and promises, "Later." before leaning back, out of reach, with a breathy chuckle.
Fuck, yeah later. He'll hold her to that.
(Also, the incredible kidsxheroes drew Lyn-Z in her Gerard Outfit for me because she is AMAZING.)
Pete/Mikey/Alicia - sort of angsty Summer Of Like snippet, written for anon_lovefest, 500 words ( original post)
"Mikey. Mikey, fuck. So good."
Pete buries his face in Mikey's neck, smelling sweat and hairspray. He strokes his hands over Mikey's chest, his thumbs bumping over the jut of his ribs. He can't stop saying Mikey's name.
Alicia stops sucking Pete off, but keeps her fingers loosely around his dick. "I'm getting a little offended, Peter. I have a name too."
"Fuck, sorry. I'm just, I get in a loop you know, I can't-"
He loses the next words when she squeezes his cock. "You know Mikey's not the one down here." Pete glances down hazily, barely able to make out Alicia's heavily lined eyes in the watery light leaking in the van window. She's kneeling on the floor, her short skirt all rucked up, button-up shirt hanging open and her underwear's up on the seat beside Mikey. She looks like sex.
He stutters out her name and that's enough for her to bend her head again, swallowing his dick, her mouth hot and perfect. Pete groans and leans his head back against the seat, fingers tightening on Mikey's shoulder.
"It could be me down there, if you wanted." Mikey whispers the words hot against Pete's cheek. It's not the first time he's offered.
Mikey slides a hand down Pete's chest, rough tips of his fingers catching on Pete's nipples, his belly button. Pete catches Mikey's hand as it reaches his hip, tugging it back up above his waist.
Mikey's mouth pulls to the side, but he doesn’t say anything. Pete grabs Mikey by the back of his head, pulling him down to kiss him hard. It's easier to kiss Mikey than try to come up with something to say that's not gonna make him sound like an asshole.
He licks inside Mikey's mouth, seeking out Alicia's taste. Mikey went down on her earlier, her pale legs locked around his shoulders, while Pete watched them with his hand on his dick.
Alicia does something amazing with her tongue and Pete's hips jump up off the seat. He breaks the kiss, groaning and shoving his face into Mikey's bony shoulder. Mikey's jerking off now, Pete can tell by the stutter of his arm, the cadence of his breath, but he won't look down to see.
He keeps his eyes closed, his mouth open warm on Mikey's neck, feeling his pulse beating under his lips like the bass thumping up through his feet when he's onstage.
He comes in Alicia's mouth, his hands clenched to fists, groaning Mikey's name.
After, he melts into the seat, watching with dazed eyes as Mikey slides to the floor, kissing Alicia hard and fierce, like he wants to devour her. He presses her back against the seat, jerking his dick with sharp movements until he comes all over her thigh.
When they come up for air they're both wrecks of messy hair and smeared eyeliner. Mikey adjusts his glasses, his eyes catching on Pete's through the smeared lenses.
He holds Pete's gaze and licks his lips, slow and deliberate.
Killjoys in Space ficlet for turps33 416 words ( original post)
"I don't think it's a BL sleeper." Mikey says, droll. The ship is about two decades older than the Tranz Am and from what Gerard can see on the viewer, the hull is a patchwork of mended metal. The chances of it surviving a re-entry look chancy.
"You never know." Gerard says stubbornly. He doesn't glance up at the green mask pinned to the wall with a knife through the eyehole, a reminder not to get caught out again. Trust no one.
"Look," Mikey says, muting the distress signal. "We can out run that piece of shit easy. If they really are in trouble we should try to help."
"You're such a fucking boy scout." Gerard says, but he puts the scrambler on and answers the call.
The image that buzzes into view on the screen is a guy about their age, or older, with a wild mane of frizzy hair. He's not wearing white, and the interior of the ship - what they can see of it - looks as rough and dilapidated as the exterior. If it's a BL trap they've gone pretty deep cover, deeper than they would usually bother. Mikey's probably right. Again.
"This is Raygun Jones, of the Jet Star, is someone there?" He blinks into the receiver, no doubt seeing digital haze the scrambler turns their transmissions into, "Are you using a scrambler?"
"We're private people." Gerard says simply, "What do you need? Your ship doesn't look damaged."
"Med supplies, anything you have. I've got some credits or I can trade for them."
"Is it infectious? You don't look sick." Gerard blurts out, and Mikey kicks him. Gerard shoots him a glare.
"It's not for me." They guy runs a hand through his frizzy mane of hair. He may look healthy, but he also looks tired. "It's for her." He says, stepping aside from the transmitter and revealing another figure, prone and immobile, with the same frizzy hair.
Gerard's breath sticks in his throat. It's funny how when you haven't seen something for a really long time, you start to forget, to wonder if you made it up. Like sunshine, or trees grown in the earth, or food that resembles food. Did it really exist, or did he just read about it?
It's been a really long time since Gerard's seen a child, and now there's one on his screen.
Frank/Gerard as street racers ficlet foramproof, 300 words ( original post)
Gerard jerks the wheel, the squeal of rubber loud in his ears as the Trans Am slides around a corner. He switches up gears, feeling her hum all around him; through his fingers, under his feet. She wants to win as much as he does.
He floors it down the straight, keeping her steady, counting down the seconds to the next turn. A glance in his rearview shows him a slash of green and yellow and he scowls. Some skunk-haired punk who doesn't know shit about shit is not going to take his title. Gerard owns these fucking roads, and he's going to show Iero exactly that.
Iero pulls up beside him, his engine rumbling in broken harmony with Gerard's Trans Am. Gerard barely spares him a glance, and when he does Iero is frowning in concentration. He'll need it. After the next few curves there's an incline, and the trade off between speed and handling becomes crucial. Gerard knows exactly how to handle it, and that's when Iero will get left for dead.
He doesn't though. He holds his own, the fucker, keeping pace with Gerard, their engines growling and panting, all revs and exhaust. Gerard's body vibrates with adrenaline, his heartbeat pounding his blood like the engine pumping fuel. He doesn't look at Iero, but he can feel him, hear him, just outside his blind spot as they crest the rise, the finish line coming into view.
They explode past the checkpoint with a flash of chequered flags and a sharp intake of breath from Gerard as he shoots across it, Iero flying past in tandem.
Gerard comes first, but only barely.
Jamia/Lyn-Z/Alicia all girl circle jerk ficlet for halfeatenmoon, 430 words ( original post)
Jamia shifts, pressing her thighs together. This had seemed like a better idea, well... before she started to sober up. Lyn had been so insistent that it would be a great bonding experience or whatever, and then there was that whole argument for feminism and claiming the circle jerk for the female sex - it had all sounded so reasonable.
Now that they were actually here, and she needed to take off her pants, it was a little intimidating. It also didn't help that she was the only one wearing pants. Lyn had just slipped her panties off under her skirt and Alicia had done some kind of slippery move with her tights, leaving her in just her shirt, which was long enough to be a dress anyway.
"C'mon, Jai, don't be shy." Lyn says, flashing a scarlet smile.
Jamia fights a blush, but undoes her pants, deciding not to take them off in favour of just getting them open. "So do we just...?" She asks, her voice coming out uneven.
"Um, yeah, I guess." Alicia says, then her her hand disappears under the hem of her shirt.
Lyn is less shy about it; she eases up onto her knees and flips her skirt up. Jamia's not sure where to look, if she's even supposed to look. She focuses instead on wedging her hand down the front of her pants. There's not really enough room to do much, but she's wet anyway. She's been wet since Lyn brought the whole idea up, even more so when she realised they were actually going to do it.
She huffs out a breath when her fingers finds her clit, her face flooding warm when a small noise escapes her lips. She closes her eyes, just feeling it for a few moments. She so wet, so fucking hot. When she opens her eyes again it's to a view of Lyn's fingers, shiny with her own wetness as she touches herself. Jamia lets out a breath and averts her eyes.
"It's okay, you can look." Lyn says, her voice gentle, a little rough. Jamia looks back and Lyn shifts a little, spreading her legs wider. "I don't mind."
"It's kind of the whole point, isn't it?" Alicia adds, creeping the hem of her shirt up higher, until Jamia can see her hand pressed between her legs.
Fighting a fierce blush, Jamia nods, and takes off her pants.
If she's going to do this, she might as well do it properly.
Frank/Gerard - cop Frank, fugitive Gerard ficlet for greedy_dancer, 350 words ( original post)
Frank almost hadn't recognised Way. A lot of fugitives will change their hair, or facial hair, or dress differently to avoid notice.
This is something else.
He waits in the shadows for Way to leave the crumbling apartment block. His footsteps announce him before Frank even lays eyes on him but Frank stays in the dark until he can make a positive ID before he makes his move.
He's got Way by the arm, one wrist cuffed and his body pressed against the wall before Way can even make a noise. When he does it's a soft "oof" followed by a strangled "ouch" as the cuffs tighten.
"So you found me, huh?" He asks, not sounding surprised. He turns and locks eyes with Frank, arching one perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, his painted lips quirking up at one side. The light from the streetlight is harsh and should be unforgiving, but it makes him looks like fucking Marlene Dietrich with dark hair. His makeup is perfect, his lips lush and dark, his features nothing but feminine. If Frank hadn't seen the mugshots, he'd be doubting himself right now.
"I'm taking you in." He says gruffly, cuffing Way's other hand and trying not to notice the perfectly manicured fingernails, the flash of stockinged thigh where the split in his dress is high.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" Way asks, tilting his head and fucking batting his eyelashes like an actress from the 20's. "I'm innocent, you know." He does this little movement, almost like a shimmy. It rolls down his torso and arms, making the silky material of his dress ripple.
Frank has to take a breath, swallow it down, and pretend his cock didn't just take notice of that. He reminds himself there's a guy under the dress - a wanted fugitive at that - one that Frank needs to take into headquarters to answer for his crimes.
Way bats his eyes again.
Frank's cock really doesn't care.
*
It continues to be VERY apparent that I just can't write commentfic.